Resettling: Life at Home (For Now)
We’ve been “home” for about two months now. I’ve sat down a number of times to explain how that feels and each time I abandon the effort for something easier like reading or, ahem, eating.
But this is my attempt to just fumble through it, so here goes.
I don’t miss traveling. We made the right decision coming “home.” And I put home in quotation marks because we don’t really feel home. We are around family and that is nice and good, but Cincinnati is not the place for us. I’m glad we came back here, because otherwise we would have always wondered what if. But the truth is we both feel like crayons in a box of pencils, books in a bag of DVDs. We don’t fit here, and that’s okay. Cincinnati is just a temporary stop on the longer continuum of whatever comes next. We got the place wrong, perhaps, but the sentiment right. To stop for a while, slow down, bring a life into the world.
The change has been a little different for Brian of course. I sit on the couch all day writing. Then I take a long walk, shower, and spend the afternoons reading. He wakes to an alarm, fights rush hour traffic, and sits for eight hours in a cubicle (In a basement! No windows!). Some days are good and some days are bad. I text him pep talks. I say, “temporary, temporary.”
My afternoons. Another bonus of having an address: library card!
I think adjustment for both of us would be harder if we didn’t have this life-changing, all-consuming anticipation of September, the month when we will meet our daughter. I suppose every expectant parent understands this feeling, the mixture of fear and elation, hope and doubt. Everything is overshadowed by the impending arrival of this little life that kicks away inside of me.
23 weeks pregnant (about 6 months). Random side note, I love this Royal Robbins dress that is not maternity and therefore not a waste of money because I’ll be able to wear it when my body (hopefully) returns to normal.
A birds eye view of the ever-expanding belly. I already grunt when I tie those shoes. I can’t imagine what the next 3+ months will be like.
This is a sweet time, one of those rare seasons when one is fully aware of the magic as it is happening. I think of each day, even as I am living it, with an almost nostalgic fondness. The anticipation of our baby is so much larger and more emotional than anything either of us have ever felt. And so the crappy commute and the basement cubicle, the out-of-body experience of being an adult back in the Midwest, it’s all minor compared to what we wait for.
What comes down the line is unknown. We have no idea what it will be like to be parents. We don’t know if I will sell my book. And, if I do sell my book, we don’t know if it will allow us the kind of financial flexibility we hope for. We don’t know if we will set out traveling again or if we’ll continue to stay in one place. And if we stay in one place we don’t know where we’ll live.
But if these past few years have taught me anything they have taught me to have faith in what I know is true: The voice that speaks inside of me will not steer me wrong. And so I don’t worry so much about what comes next. I know we’ll be guided there when the time is right. In the meantime, I’m okay to sit with the mystery.
An Update on Sam the Dog
Many of you have asked what happened to Sam, the dog we adopted in Mexico. I’m sorry it has taken so long for me to post this update!!
You may have noticed that Sam did not come home with us. Sam was a stray when we found him. He was starving and covered in ticks. He followed us home. He slept like a dead man on our couch. We fell in love. We put a collar on him, symbolically Mexican for “this dog is a pet.” Most dogs in Sayulita roamed free, and many days Sam would take himself to the beach. But one day Sam left and he never came back. We looked everywhere for him. But no one in town knew what had become of him. He’d vanished from Sayulita. Our theory is that, because he was a purebred Basset Hound, someone stole him and resold him in another town. We just hope that, wherever he is, someone loves him as much as we did. We miss you Sam!